


just me, him, and the moon

by gonnaliveforever (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, I don't want to give too much away, M/M, Smut, but it's smutty, harry's thoughts in this are confusing, he's very confusing in how he feels okay, i feel like this is how his mind actually works, it's just very, like he's constantly changing what he means or like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 00:51:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5270381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gonnaliveforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Want to put your money where your mouth is, then?”</i>
</p><p> <i>Liam, ever the competitive, smirks. “Don’t have to ask me, you know that. What’re the playing fields?”</i></p><p> </p><p>liam and harry bet on whether or not they’re going to win artist of the year and well, things happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	just me, him, and the moon

**Author's Note:**

> FAIR WARNING: loads of mistakes in here, i haven't beta'ed it, which, if i have time in the next couple of days i'll go through and edit it, but i wanted to post it before i didn't have the guts to because i don't think it's my best work? anyways, so yeah, all mistakes are my own
> 
> this is for the lovely whatwasthatharry and her ideas on what happened at the amas last night; i added in a few things that were asked from you, because i love you <3
> 
> thanks to anyone that listened to me complain about writing this, because, even though it was really only a day of writing, i still complained, majorly. 
> 
> so yeah, i hope you enjoy!

Harry sighs, pursing his lips together as he claps for Pentatonix performance. He’d been late back to his seat, as Lou was trying to wrestle him back into his shoe. It’s not his fault that he charms old men as well as he does, really, it just happens.

He notices Louis and Niall talking, so he turns to Liam on his left, nudging his knee into him. He’s really digging Liam’s maroon vest, vibrant against the black of his shirt. It defines Liam’s shoulders as well, Harry’s eyes sweeping over the expanse of them. 

Liam looks up from where he’s been picking at the material of his pants, his head tilted to the side and a smile on his face. “What’s up, H?” 

Flicking his tongue over his lips, Harry hums, lower lip covering his upper as he thinks. “Do you reckon we’ll win Artist of the Year?’ 

“Yeah, of course. We’ve the best fans in the world, don’t we?” 

“But Mother Nicki is up against us, how will we win against her?”

Liam laughs, eyes crinkling up as he begins to speak again, “Oh, Harry, you’re so silly. In a normal situation, us winning against Mother Nicki is, at best, farfetched-” 

“Which is why I have my doubts, Liam-” 

“Shut it, yeah? Let me speak.” Liam’s not cross with Harry; rarely ever is, Harry aware of this. Liam's been the rational one out of the five of them, or well, now the four of them (sometimes, he forgets), from the very beginning. Anyways, the point is, Harry's sure that Liam’s calm about a lot of things, if not everything, even when he’s upset. He doesn’t know where he’s going with this, actually-

“I can tell you have your doubts,” Liam says, hand pressing into Harry’s shoulder like he’s trying to anchor him. Harry’s lost now, because when did Liam even turn his body towards him? Was he really stuck in his thoughts for that long? He’s not sure now, as this happens a lot. Loads more than he'd admit to anyone. “Just trust our fans, yeah?”

With a shrug, Harry has those two worry lines in between his eyebrows, the ones that have just about etched their way into his skin. “It’s not that I don’t trust them, per say. It’s that.” He’s really furrowing his brows now, kind of at a loss for words, which isn't unusual for him. “I don’t. I just, Nicki’s really great, you know?” 

“Mate, trust me, I know,” Liam’s murmuring now, as someone’s back on the stage. He’s not angled towards Harry now, body-wise at least, but his head is facing Harry, eyes moving from Harry's face to the stage. “But I have faith in them.” He drops his hand from Harry’s shoulder to squeeze at his forearm, thumb fleetingly brushing across his skin. It has Harry’s skin heat up in an instant, Harry having to lick his lips once more as they’ve suddenly gone dry.

Fire, Harry thinks. There must be a fire in the room, because it seems as though all the air in Harry's lungs have dissipated and he's being left here to burn.

“Want to put your money where your mouth is, then?”

Liam, ever the competitive, smirks. “Don’t have to ask me, you know that. What’re the playing fields?” 

He’s pushing his thumb into his lips as Harry catches that he’s basically digging his knee into Liam’s, and instead of letting up, he presses in harder. “If I win,” he begins, his mouth spreading into one of his usual, cat-like grins. “You’ve to let me pick out your outfit for our next red carpet event.” Harry’s certain that he’s going to win this, really. 

He notices Liam’s hesitance, especially following what Harry had worn today on the carpet. Not one to back down from a challenge though, Liam nods, biting down on his lower lip. Harry does his best not to stare, as Liam’s lips are a gift sent from the devil himself. “Go big or go home, ‘ey Styles? Alright, alright. I’m up for it.” 

Harry feels his cheeks heat up, like he’s not in the middle of an award show with hundreds of other celebrities and like around him. He’s not sure why he’s blushing, really; Liam’s always been able to get under his skin, he supposes. “And your bet, Liam?” 

“If I win,” he whispers into Harry’s ear, like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear what he’s about to say, “then you’ve to suck me off later, in the car ride back to your home.” And there it is, the elephant in the room. 

It hits Harry like a tidal wave on the beach. He’s been trying his hardest to act as if them getting closer on tour didn’t happen, the risk in them doing anything with one another then and even now exponentially high. They’ve all fooled around a bit, nothing more than drunken snogs, honestly, but him and Liam haven’t. They’ve danced around each other since X Factor, had times where they looked at one another as if they wanted to devour the other, but, they’ve never done anything about it.

It’s unsettling, in an amazing way, this feeling in his stomach. To think that, yeah, maybe Harry can finally get whatever it is about Liam that he likes so much out of his head, to move on from these idiotic and painful thoughts he has about Liam, to see if Liam really tastes like what Harry thinks he does, and fuck, Harry wants it so much, that he squeaks out a response, “Yeah, you’re on.” 

Liam settles back into his seat to watch the show, his nail catching on Harry’s skin as he goes to let go of him, forcing a hiss out of Harry’s mouth. His foot taps into Harry’s, which has the younger boy mentally slapping a hand over his own lips to quiet himself. 

He’s hoping that his half-hard dick isn’t really noticeable in these pants. Somehow, though, he knows his life doesn’t work out as he’s planned. 

For awhile, it’s pretty uneventful, with the exception of the Paris tribute, in which Harry admittedly tears up at, getting pats on the back from Louis and Liam, and a glance from Niall. He loves his boys.

It’s not until Jennifer comes back out on stage, looking as elegant as she has the entire night, and she announces Jeremy Renner, whom they all know is going to let them know who Artist of the Year is. 

Harry’s leg is shaking, jittery from all of the nerves flowing through his body. He can feel how anxious the other boys are, without any of them saying anything. He’s not listening to a word Jeremy says, if he’s honest, his mind transporting him to a far away place, where everything works out for the four of them in the end and they don’t end up breaking up like the tabloids keep speculating. 

And, they’re not breaking up, really, Harry’s just a bit of a worry wart. 

He snaps out of it as the nominations end on the big screen, inhaling a deep breath and not letting it out. He’s glad they aren’t shown during this time, as they’re all clearly a wreck, despite them supposedly being professionals. Harry’s not sure who came up with that ridiculous thought, really. 

“And the American Music Award goes to...” 

Harry knows it’s not going to be them, he told Liam this from the beginning. He doesn’t know why Liam is so set on believing that the fans did this for them, to think that they could've won over Mother Nicki-

“One Direction!” 

Fuck.  _Fuck_. They won? Is this a joke? Has Liam set him up to get a blowjob out of him?

No, he thinks, no, he _knows_ _._ Liam wouldn't do that. But, that means Liam won the bet. That means Harry’s going to have to suck Liam off.

 _Shit_.

He stands up quickly, with the rest of them, and does the first thing he can think of. He spins around so he's facing Liam, unable to stop himself from grinning at the huge smile on his face, and he rushes forward to literally entangle himself in Liam’s arms, the warm feeling in his stomach only intensifying further at this. “We won,” he murmurs into Liam’s ear. And there’s a feeling in Harry’s stomach, something he hasn’t felt in the longest time.

He feels like he’s home, in Liam’s arms, which is weird. He’s hugged Liam millions of times, in more private areas and much more pressing things going on, not that the idea of feeling relief in winning an award isn’t necessarily  _pressing_ , but, he understands what he means. 

He doesn’t ever want to let go, he realizes, wanting to stay in Liam’s arms, the safety of them, for as long as humanly possibly. Which is why he doesn’t let go and turn to hug the other boys like he should, only tightening his grip on Liam as Louis and Niall join them in their, or well, everyone’s hug.

People ask him sometimes why he doesn’t go solo. They question him on why he’s still in a band, when he has so much more potential as a solo artist. They don’t see, the love him and the others have for each other, connection too strong for them to just give up on one another because they’re down a member, or because there are people that think certain members would be better off by themselves. No, it’s moments like these that remind Harry how much he loves his boys, how much he greatly appreciates being in a band with them and having other people to share his experiences with. 

It's times like these, when they break apart and cannot stop smiling at one another, grins so wide that they feel like their face is going to fall off, their eyes shining brighter than that of the sun. All of the nerves and jitters they had previously, gone, and replaced with something different. Excitement, maybe? Harry's not entirely sure.

They begin their walk up to the stage, Harry behind the other three, and his stomach is in knots, at the thought of what is to come later. He really, really doesn't know if Liam was joking when he made the bet, or if they're going to go through with it. He also isn't sure which he'd prefer, really.

Okay, that's a lie, he knows that he'd rather Liam let Harry suck him off, but, he's going to act like he's thinking about both of their feelings in the end, at the very least.

Liam turns towards Harry, actually stopping on the steps to speak to him. "So, uh," he starts, then begins to walk up the slow ascend of the stairs. "Tell Niall that you're taking the car back with me."

And, oh, he was serious.

"I can't just-"

"Yes you can, Harry. Do it." Harry shuts up at that, feeling like an exhibitionist over the fact that they're having this kind of conversation on stage. He knows that to everyone else, it looks innocent, like they're congratulating each other on winning this profound award that says something about their career, which Harry thinks is a load of bullshit, but, who is he to think that?

Both Louis and Liam speak on the award here, Harry barely able to concentrate, thinking about what he’s going to be doing with Liam later, and, fuck. He’d be lying if he said he’s not excited.

They’re all ushered off stage, and they don’t bother to go back to their seats because the only thing left is Justin Bieber’s performance, and without being rude, they politely decline the opportunity in watching it. If it’s really as good as people say, they can always view it on the internet. 

Perks of the internet, Harry thinks. 

As time gets closer to when they have to leave, Harry tries to find a way into letting Niall know he has to share the car with Louis. It’s not as though Niall’s staying at his house, but they had ridden there together and the arrangements were for them to come and go as one. 

How does he tell Niall to bugger off without letting in on the fact that he’s going to suck Liam-

He can’t even think the complete thought without his entire body shuddering, his mouth nearly watering at what’s going to happen. He can’t wait, the excitement brewing in his blood,resulting in him bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. 

Liam reaches a hand over to rest it on Harry’s shoulder, stopping him from moving, so Harry looks at Liam with hooded eyes. The older boy steps in towards Harry, his lips ghosting across Harry’s skin. Liam’s free hand wrapping around Harry’s hip, and Harry feels weird all over, something he’s never felt in Liam’s presence before. “Be a good boy.” 

Harry all but whimpers, his body swaying into Liam’s as he whispers, “Liam, I-” He doesn’t finish what he’s saying, eyes flickering back and forth from Liam’s eyes to is mouth, and they linger on the latter, Harry doing everything in him not to just outright kiss Liam. Or drop to his knees and suck him off right here.

Either are pretty hard not to do, really.

In a haste, Harry staggers away from Liam, who smirks at his retreating body, and finds Niall. It takes him a little bit, as Niall likes to introduce himself to everyone and anyone and is the one out of all of them to remember names and Niall’s just a good person, a great person, and Harry really loves him.

“Niall!” Harry exclaims as soon as he’s found him, slinging his arm over Niall’s shoulder and tugging him into Harry’s body. He grins down at the shorter boy, it almost faltering at the weird look Niall gives him, but, he’s used to it from him. “I’ve got a favor, or, a need to discuss.

“What s’it, Harry,” he asks, but his tone is flat, a normal occurrence when he speaks to Niall. He’s got those glasses on again, the ones that make him look like he works on Wall Street and isn’t in a world famous boyband that he’s actually in. Sometimes Harry forgets that they’re all in a boyband together, because they’re all so different than the usual stereotypes in regards to boybands. Wow, he thinks, he’s thought the word boybands too many times in the past one minutes.

A sigh leaves Harry’s mouth, and he hears their manager say that they're rounding up the cars, so Harry needs to speak up fast. He scrubs a hand up over his face, smiling sweetly at Niall. “Liam’s coming in the car with me.” 

Niall raises an eyebrow, a comical look on  his face. “What? Why? I thought we were riding back together. That was the plan.” 

“I know, I know. It’s just, uh... Liam, er, he left his phone at my house!”

“Harry, Liam hasn’t been to your house-” 

“You’re the greatest, Niall,” Harrys says, throwing his arms around Niall and hugging the life out of him, adding to poor Niall’s confusion. It’s in this moment that their manager says they can leave, and Harry lets go, tussling Niall’s hair as he backs away from him.” Bye, Niall!” 

Niall’s left there, eyebrows furrowed together and mouth twisted into a confused grimace. Louis ends up next to him in a heartbeat with a similar look on his face, nudging his shoulder into Niall’s. “You get ditched too?”

Niall only grumbles, walking in the direction of the loos.

A little ways away, Harry finds Liam casually leaning against the door that leads them to the cars, and he has to stop, taking in how good Liam looks doing the simplest of things. He’s scrolling through his phone, his left hand resting against his own tummy and Harry wants to ravish him.

He has plans to do so in the car, if Liam’s not joking about this. Harry still isn’t sure whether or not Liam’s taken this too far, or if Liam really wants Harry to suck him off. 

It’s a bit of a hassle to get them out, Harry’s body close to pressing into Liam’s as they go, as it’s a crazier outside than usual. It’s just the two of them and the driver in the car now, and Liam leans forward to shut the partition after he gives the driver Harry’s address.

They’ve both been in these kinds of cars long enough to know the standards and depths of a car with a partition.

Harry’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, he’s fucking terrified.

“You can back out of this, H,” Liam whispers, turning towards Harry with an earnest look on his face, and Harry’s so fucking fond of this boy, that he can hardly take it. These feelings for Liam are incredibly new, like, end of tour new, and it’s continuing to increase as he’s kind about everything.

“No, Liam.” Harry sighs, sitting with body in towards Liam’s. He drums the pads of his fingers against his thigh, flicking his tongue across his mouth, and kneeling forward, his nose pressing into Liam’s clothed crotch. “A bets a bet, and you won.”

Liam’s breath hitches, his hand dropping to rest on Harry’s upper back, rubbing small circles into it. “God, have I won,” he mumbles, before he tilts his head back against the cushion of the seat. 

Harry fumbles with the button of Liam’s jeans, tugging at both his pants and jeans, knowing that they don’t have the longest amount of time to do this, so Liam lets Harry pull them down under his bum, so his cock immediately springs out and slaps against Liam’s belly. He’s half hard already, and suddenly Harry isn’t feeling so bad for his moment back there at the show. He leans down, nosing into Liam’s pubic hair, ignoring the nearly quiet pleas from Liam to get a move on because they don’t have that much time. 

“I’ve got you,” Harry murmurs, somehow finding himself in a comfortable enough position to wrap his hand around Liam’s cock, liking the weight of it in his hand, heavy and hard, and a bit slippery. His grip around him tightens, and he takes a few experimental tugs, watching in fascination as it grows, proving Liam to be a fairly decent size fully hard. He smears a kiss into the head, letting out a breath as he realizes that his lips are now covered in precome, and he grins up at Liam, whose watching him with huge eyes. 

“Fuck,  _fuck_ , Harry,” he’s saying, babbling a bit already, and Harry’s not even got his mouth on him, yet. He’s figured, from the way Liam’s so calm and collected all of the time, that he’d be the same way in bed. It makes sense, though, that, so far, it doesn’t seem to be that way.

Leaning down, Harry sucks the tip of Liam’s cock into his mouth, the hand that’s not wrapped around Liam being placed flat on his thigh, and Harry presses his tongue to the underside of his dick, slowly beginning to bob his head up and down, using his hand to fit around the parts that his mouth can’t cover. It’s exhilarating, the way Liam hits the back of Harry’s throat, Harry ending up gagging every now and then, his eyes watering. 

A hand entangles itself with Harry’s hair, Liam holding Harry down on his cock, and he hums, tugging a bit roughly on Harry’s hair as he croaks out, “Good boy. You’re doing so good, yeah?”

This elicits a moan from Harry, it vibrating around Liam, and Liam almost loosens his hold on Harry’s hair completely. He pulls Harry off of him, bringing his head up so he’s eye-to-eye with Liam. He shushes Harry’s pleas to let him continue, squeezing his hand in Harry’s hair to get him to stop. “Listen to me, yeah? You’ve to be quiet, Harry. We’re in public. Can you do that for me?

Nodding his head faster than any of them usually get out of Harry, he tries to lean back down. but Liam yanks him up, and Harry’s sure he’s giving Liam a wild look, eyes wide and mouth obscenely red and slick with his precome. He goes to say something, Liam hushing him with a hand pressed to his cheek, sliding it down until his thumb is pushing at Harry's lower lip.

Harry wraps his lips around Liam's thumb, sucking on it as if it were his cock, and Liam lets out a shaky breath, having to remove his hand from Harry's mouth so he doesn't come already. He then guides Harry back onto his dick, down until Harry’s choking, and Liam doesn’t let up. The thing is, too, that Harry loves this. He’s wanted, for as long as he can remember, to lose his train of thought on a dick, to not be able to breathe, for his eyes to water and his lips to stretch, and god, he  _loves_ this so much. It’s all he’s thinking about now, is being good for Liam and making him feel the best he possibly can and Liam, Liam,  _Liam_.

“I’m not going to last,” Liam says, quietly and honestly, his finger scraping over Harry’s cheek where his cock is pressed into it, and Harry swallows him down further, to the point that his nose is nuzzling into Liam’s pubic hair, and this has Liam jerking his hips up, and he goes to apologize, but Harry shakes his head, his hand moving underneath Liam’s thighs and pushing. Liam gets the hint, slowly thrusting up into the wet, warm heat of Harry;s mouth, and chokes out, ”Such a good boy, Harry. Sucking me so well.” 

A whine leaves Harry's mouth, but it's muffled by Liam's cock, and Harry's not realized his own dick is hard and throbbing until he comes like a teenager in his jeans, at Liam saying, "Proud of you, so proud, such a good boy, Harry, so good." His body feels heavy now, his orgasm rushing through it and he stops any and all technique he was using on Liam, sloppily sucking him off towards his own release.

"Harry? Did you just-" Liam stills his hips when he notices the wet stain at Harry's crotch, and he can't help it, coming in Harry's throat with no warning. He's a little surprised when Harry sucks him through it, having thought that Harry would've pulled off. He guesses that Harry's full of surprises tonight. 

Harry keeps at it, even when Liam falls soft in his mouth, and it causes Liam to hiss, his body going through a harsh moment of sensitivity, and Harry pulls off without a hassle this time, his tongue licking at the come on the corner of his mouth. Liam’s dick jerks at the sight, and for a moment, he thinks he’s actually going to end up hard again. 

After a moment, he helps Liam bring his jeans and pants up and over his bum, tucking his dick back into his briefs, and he buttons Liam’s jeans up. He’s buzzing, really, over the fact that this happened. It’s one of the best experiences he’s had in a long time, and all that happened to him was him coming in his pants, which is something that hasn’t happened to him since secondary. 

He’s nervous now, as the tension in the air has thickened and they’re sitting on opposite sides of the car, stealing glancing at one another when they think they’re not looking. They both know they need to talk, as this isn’t something they’ve done with any of the other lads. Harry knows that even though Zayn and Liam fooled around the most out of all of them when Zayn was still in the band, they’d never gone farther than making out in each other’s bunks. 

It’s not too long before the partition is pulled back by their driver, announcing that they’ve arrived at Harry’s house in Beverly Hills. Harry thanks him, giving him a pat on the back and telling him to enjoy his Thanksgiving. They both leave the car, watching as the driver pulls off and leaves, Harry’s gate closing and leaving the two of them alone. 

Walking up to the door, Harry enters the seven-digit number on the keypad that disables the alarm system. In that amount of time, Liam has pressed himself into Harry’s back, his chin hooking over Harry’s shoulder. “Are you trying to break into my house, Liam?” Harry knows that his voice sounds offended, as he sticks the key into the hole and turns it, letting the door unlock. He pushes it open, but neither of them make an effort to move.

“So,” Liam starts, after having toed both his shoes and socks off, and hung his vest in the corridor, shocking Harry that he’s made himself at home so fast. Not that Harry minds, at all, but Liam’s usually awkward in the best of situations, so. It’s a little weird, Harry reckons. 

It’s more than a little weird, especially after before, but. 

Harry goes to speak, but he ends up yawning, his hand flying up to hold his jaw. “Fuck, ouch.” 

Liam’s stifling a laugh into his forearm, playful eyes glancing between Harry’s eyes and his hand, and he moves his arm, lips curved up. “Sorry, I mean, that’s my fault, isn’t it?” He’s innocent in his tone, but his eyes shine different, naughty almost. 

A laugh is pulled from Harry, and he moves forward, lightly pushing Liam with his hand to Liam’s chest. He rests his hand there, the hammering in his chest increasing as he speaks, “Do y’want me to turn on the kettle?” 

With a shake of his head, Liam retreats from where he’s basically pressed against Harry, and flows down onto the living room couch, flipping the tele on with the remote. He crosses his legs at his ankles, twisting his head back a few seconds later when he notices that Harry hasn’t followed him. “Are we going to watch Rude Tube or no? There was this time where they had something about us on here-” 

“Liam.” 

“What?”

“Are we not going to talk about what happened in the car?” 

Liam’s eyebrows furrow together rather cutely, his lips worrying into a small frown. “Talk about what? Our bet?” 

Harry sighs, threading his fingers through his hair and nods. “Yeah, that. What else would we-” 

Muting the television, Liam situates himself so he’s facing Harry, but still on the couch. “Harry, it was just.. It was a bet, you know? S’why I didn’t want you to do it, knew that you’d end up thinking it was more than what it actually wa-”

“More than it actually was? Excuse me, Liam, I didn’t think that me sucking you off was things friends did with one another, but thank you for enlightening me.” Harry’ s voice is slightly raised compared to his usual level, and he feels like his body is pouring out anger at the moment, over the fact that Liam knew, he knew that Harry could take this into being something more, yet he still let Harry go through with it. "Was this just a sick way for you to get off, Liam? To have one of your supposed "best mates" put their dick on your mouth when you clearly knew that it could mean something else?" 

"Harry, no; lisen to me-" 

Harry laughs, and it's bitter, his lips curled into an ugly snarl. He begins to back up, fumbling around for his coat, and ignores Liam's pleas for him to come back, to listen to him. He shrugs it on, hand on the knob of his door, before he turns back to Liam, voice steadily calm as he talks, "You, Liam Payne, are not the man I thought you were.”

And he's gone.

Or, well, out of the house, really. He's halfway down the driveway when it clicks that he left his keys in the house, and there's no way in hell that he's going back in there right now, not when he's feeling like this and Liam's still inside.

Fuck Liam, and his fucking face that's incredibly gorgeous and everything about him. Harry can't believe that he thought Liam was this sick, in the best way possible, guy. He may not have known until recently that things were different with Liam, that he wanted to touch him longer than Niall and Louis and he gravitated towards Liam, and even tonight, when he completely disregarded the fact that the other two were there when they won Artist of the Year and hugged Liam, and he felt safe for once in his godforsaken life. 

He lets out a curse when it starts to pour, thinking about how fucked his life is right now, and he's stuck between the option of running inside, past Liam, and locking himself in his bedroom, or, to leave on foot. He's still contemplating his options, when the door opens and slams shut.

"Go away, Liam, I don't want to-"

"Harry, fuck, please listen to me." Liam's closer than Harry wants, the both of them already drenched thanks to the rain, Harry making a mental note to thank bloody mother nature for this later. He's got his back turned to Liam, his shoulders sagging as he begins to shake his head. "Please, Harry."

When Liam realizes he's got Harry's attention, he spurs into action. "I didn't mean it like that, Fuck, Harry, you have to know that that was like the best blowjob i've ever been given, right? When I said that, at the time, what I had to hurt you, it was to protect you. I'm an idiot that's impulsive and I thought that maybe, you'd be better off without me and my dumb self."

"You are dumb-"

"I know I am," Liam says, stepping closer to Harry. He only knows this, because he can hear the wet footsteps behind him, and all he hears is a "fuck it, just", before he's being turned around and Liam's kissing him, hard.

Harry's hands fly up to steady himself on Liam's shoulders, the rain padding against the both of their heads like fingers on tables. It's harsh, Liam's mouth on his, because Liam's lips are slightly chapped and he's unabated with trying to get Harry to kiss him back, Liam's own hands on Harry's face and his Harry's hair and Liam's everywhere.

There's a clash of their teeth at some point when Harry decides to kiss back, unable to resist Liam's relentless lips. There's also a feeling in Harry's stomach; it's not something he's felt before, he thinks, as Liam sinks his lower teeth into Harry's mouth.

They don't pull apart for the clap of thunder heard above them, the flash of lightning hidden behind their eyelids, and wait-

Liam's ripping his mouth from Harry's to look behind them, a pap grinning manically at him from afar. "Thanks for the headlines, mate," he says, waving at Liam and taking off.

"Shit, fuck, God, I'm so sorry, Harry, I-" Liam ducks his head, but doesn't stop touching Harry, thinks that now, there's not really a reason to.

Leaning forward, Harry presses the tip of his nose into Liam's, moving one of his hands from his shoulder to grab at Liam's wrist, and he tugs Liam's hand down, their fingers slotting together as Harry murmurs, "Hey, don't be sorry, even though I would've preferred for this to be a little private, I don't care as long as I'm here with you."

Even in the dark of the night with the rain pouring, Harry can see the flush of Liam's cheeks. "Sap."

Harry dips him down in his arms, and kisses him. "Yeah, I am."

**Author's Note:**

> come find me at iffolkswannapopoff on tumblr, if you want, to yell, scream, or talk about anything lirry related; or even this fic!


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